Useful Trash

The Intruder

"3rd robbery reported. Please keep your door and windows closed and lock-"

"Hey, we are heading out. Lock the door and-"

I cut him off. "I know, I know! Geez, I am tired of hearing the same thing."

I stand up and switch off the T.V and usher them out.

He turns back and says, "take care and be careful, okay?"

I only glare at him and he cracks a soft smile. Behind him, David, my father-in-law chuckles and Misty, my mother-in-law pulls Ryan. I close the door and slump against it.

Finally, some fucking peace.

But then I remember. The windows.

I run all over the house; sliding the panes, gliding the latches. I am tired of this robbery. I always have been a paranoid person; I couldn't sit without checking something for three times. So, this is a nightmare. Three is not sufficient anymore, my brain conjures up shuffling noises, it tires itself from thinking about all possibilities.

Now, I want to sob and scream. What if I was too late? What if the thief managed to sneak-in in that small window of time frame? What if he is hiding in here? What if I am not alone, just dont know it?

Calm down, Vivi. Its not like you are rich, then why would a robber waste his time?

I smack my face and groan. Better be safe than sorry.

First, I pull up my hair in a tight bun, also clip my bangs.

"No distraction needed." I mutter.

Then, I take out hand-sanitizer spray from my bag on the coffee table and make my way around the house with light steps. I am quite light on my feet. I took my job of spying on my siblings very, very seriously, thank God.

I enter the kitchen and weigh my options. Ultimately, I decide on no weapons. I move the knifes to the farthest corner except for my sharpest one. I need to hide it and also make it accessible. The best will be concealing it but also, keep it accessible.

Uh-huh. I carefully detach the trident from sculptures hand but soon realize, the handle is too big. I toss the knife with others and take out a steel barbeque skewer.

I scout the whole house. Nothing.

I faceplant in one of the couches in the living room. I reach for my remote on the carpet and turn back on the T.V. After scouring all channels, I settle for a Documentary show. How boring, argh.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

My mind focuses on our old rusty cuckoo clock.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I yawn and decrease the volume.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

My eye-lids feel heavy.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Cuckoo. Cuckoo. Cuckoo.

"Mhm..."

I frown and open my eyes. Three? What?

I check my phone and 3:45 glares from the screens. Strange

I sit up and swipe my hand over my mouth wiping the drool. I strain my ears-- there is a sound of wind howling. Nervousness settles in my stomach. I stand up and follow the sound.

Nervousness expands into dread as I see the window in the corridor is open. I want to go back and come back with my sanitizer and the metal skewer but at the same time, I don't want to leave the situation unattended. Maybe, there is no one.

Fuck, who am I kidding?! Something is definitely wrong.

I peek into the guestroom; it is coal dark. Same with the master bedroom. At this point, I want to pass out, puke my guts out and scream bloody murder. Definitely, not in this particular order.

With my heart hammering in my chest, I take tentative steps inside the washroom. My four-chambered blood pumper dives into my stomach, jumps out of my throat and settles back in my rib cage but this time with desperate urgency of breaking free out of it. We have a small four walled toilet inside the bathroom for more efficiency and privacy while pooping and for some weird reason, there is a window facing the main door of the bathroom. We usually keep that closed but...

... it's not now. I can see someone sitting on the toilet. All I can see from my position is long blonde hair and its a few shades lighter from being a neon yellow. A surprised sound of a dying rat escapes my lips. The figure doesnt move.

There is no going back. I walk around the corner and peer inside.

"Hi. I am Caden."

I stumble on my feet and fall on my ass. My vision blurs, air rushes out of my lungs and I can't breathe.

The doll creepily stares ahead. Everything starts spinning.

Breathe. Breathe. In and out. In and out. There is no immediate threat. Not immediate enough.

I can not wrap my mind around a fucking shit! How can anyone come inside and place a five feet long creepy smiling ass doll? Does that mean someone is still inside the house? What should I do? Should I go and call someone or just sit here and wait for the intruder? I know how stupid the second option is and I should be calling police but I don't move. I can't move.

I hate dolls; they are creepy. Since I was a little girl, I have this irrational fear of dolls doing unnatural things, like they will blink when they are clearly not designed to blink. I keep my eyes on the doll like a hawk, waiting for it to blink.

I don't move.

I stay still.

I resist blinking.

It blinks.

***

This classifies as a horror story, right? This one is a mix of another weird dream (I woke up before seeing the face, super annoying!) and one of my irrational fears.

I don't expect anyone from my real life to read it, so I am going to admit something. Bring in some antique broken mirrors and dolls with realistic eyes and wide smile, and you will have a perfect prank for me.